


Classic Geometry

by Fallowfield



Category: Naruto, Naruto Shippuden
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 07:49:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15859359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallowfield/pseuds/Fallowfield





	Classic Geometry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brunch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brunch/gifts).



He held his hand up. His fingers could lie parallel to each panel of the blinds. Or. He extended his arm. They could fan out like the blades of the fan. The nail polish on his index finger always chipped before the others. Always peeling tape or edging remnants of his classes off his hands. 

Sasuke didn’t bother to ask why he never turned on the light. Itachi’s afternoon ritual was to lie on his bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the air conditioning. His legs were long enough that his feet still touched the floor. It was dim in here with the blinds shut. Cool air blew across his face, but he was warm in his sweatshirt. He heard the door shut. Sasuke was off. Itachi didn’t seem to be able to steer time the same way. It was like this ritual was unavoidable. Sometimes you have to give in to the darkness. Give back to it. Homes are strange that way. They’re bright at night, when the outside darkens, yes. But during the day they’re dimmer than that incredible sunshine. The brightness does not heal or ruminate, only energizes.

“Aha.”

Itachi’s eyes flickered to the doorway. But there were some brightnesses you could only see at night, sometimes with colors more vivid than any the sun ever dreamt. It was because of the contrast.

“I feel like I could make your ceiling more….captivating. I know it’s a challenge. With how it keeps you so mesmerized.” Deidara smiled to himself, gazing at the white plaster.

Itachi said nothing, his eyes returning upward.

“But what could compare to this being who gazes upon it?”

Silence, but customary silence. Warm, floating silence. The moment passed and Deidara grew bored. A comfortable boredom. He sighed dramatically and crumbled onto the bed beside Itachi. “I guess I can’t critique it before I even take it in.” He extended his arms, then folded them behind his head.

“You know that I let others keep their minimalism, though. It’s overdone.” He faced the ceiling but his eyes were on the sharp profile of Itachi’s face. He had trouble keeping them away. He tried to make his eyes gentle. He didn’t know if he succeeded.

Deidara lifted his arm. One finger. His polish was so chipped it was only a suggestion of the color. He traced an arc across the space. “So. A rounded gesture?” He blinked. Itachi did not. Deidara shook his head. “No.” He bent his fingers and twisted them across. “Something more organic. Yeah?”

Deidara smirked. He never expected an answer. It was more a conversation with himself. “What am I saying? You’re a classic geometry.” His fingers lengthened again. He traced parallel lines. “But every so often….” He began to draw sharp angles, escalating in violence until he swung his entire arm from his shoulder. He saw the miniscule flash in Itachi’s eye as it turned to him, the new hitch in his lip. So Deidara pivoted his arm and let it fall across Itachi. Forbidden, but the danger exhilarated him. He raised his eyebrows, feeling it rush through him.

Itachi had shut his eyes. The sound seemed to drain away from the room. But then, unseen by him, Deidara felt those soft fingers lace between those of his marauding hand. Itachi clasped them and held them to himself. He was captured. Attacks never prevail with him.


End file.
